


To Come Up Breathing

by swindalynn



Series: Red Wonder [1]
Category: Batwoman (Comic), DCU (Comics), Wonder Woman (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Humor, Romance, a lot of flirting, all the things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 08:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swindalynn/pseuds/swindalynn
Summary: Set after Detective comics 974. Diana asks Kate's help with tracking down Killer Croc in a race against Batman. Things are shaky with him, but who says no to a chance to flirt with Wonder Woman? Imagine Kate's surprise when Diana can flirt back.This is the only first pov I will ever write. I don't even know why I wrote this in first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pulling a Grant Morrison and saying that anything is subject to be canon in this, but at the same time it's also subject to not being canon as it suits the story. So, yeah. 
> 
> Warning: Spoilers ahead. Mentions of Infinite Crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started as a one shot that became too long, so this chapter cuts off at a place I find real awkward and has not real chapter end feel. ha.

It's hours past midnight when Gotham's streets are the darkest. This rooftop oversees a good deal of the harbor even shrouded in the night fog that's being chased away only by the sickly pale yellow of a dying street lamp. A small breeze blows from behind, and by the way the cape billows, I know she's arrived. 

“Wouldn't have thought a princess would be sneaking about at a time like this,” I tell her over my shoulder. Can't appear too eager you know. 

Behind me, Diana of Themyscira crouches from her landing and then stands, brushing a few particles of cement from the palms of her hands. Pictures really don't do her justice and that's saying a lot. She is also a lot more intimidating in person, in all the right ways. But that's just who she is.

“Thank you for coming at this hour,” she says as she approaches, but her customary smile of greeting is missing. 

“Hey, when Wonder Woman calls, you come running. It's a whole thing. I'm sure you know.” 

I'm tall but Diana is taller and I have to tilt my head to look at her. Though it's mostly passed, I still get a little starstruck around her and its goes against this fearful image I've built around the Batwoman. Still. This is Wonder Woman we're talking about. Sometimes, it helps to have a cowl to hide behind.

Diana steps beside me and over looks the dark street below, as if looking for whatever I was watching before she came. Now the briefest of smiles touches her lips and she turns to me. 

“Is that really a thing?” she asks me and I'm not sure how to answer that without incriminating myself. 

There are times where Diana will look at someone and its like there's no one else more important to her in that moment. This is one of those moments. I scoff a little and take a few steps away, tossing my cape back to place a hand on my hip. Usually when I see an attractive woman, I wouldn't hesitate to try to pick her up, but you can't really _pick up_ Wonder Woman. Not like that, anyway. ...Can you?

“Even if it isn't, it should be.” I turn to face her again when its safe to. “So, what's so important that you need my help? No one in the League free?” 

“It's Waylon Jones,” Diana says, folding her arms across her chest. “I have to find him. Preferably before Bruce does. It's not something I would need to bother the League about.” 

“You need help locating Killer Croc before Batman does?” I ask. Well, shit. I let out a whistle. “That's a tall order. There's not much that can be done once he puts himself on someone's trail.”

“Believe me.” Diana nods. “I'm aware.” 

The way she says that makes me think she's gone toe to toe with him before in a hunt like this and every fiber of my being is aching with curiosity to know how that went. He's called the world's greatest detective for a reason. I cross my arms and rear myself taller, trying to mirror image her.

“All right.” I nod.“Tell me what happened with that and I'm in.” 

Diana smiles and says, “Kate, anything you would like to know about me is yours to know for no cost other than your company.”

Jesus Christ, Bruce was right about her. Sometimes she hits you out of left field like this and leaves you winded. I bring a hand to my chest and show her a wait finger. She looks concerned and places a hand on my shoulder, asks me if I'm all right, and all I can do is nod my head and pat her hand away.

“Do you even know you do that?” I ask. “Woo people without meaning to?”

“I'm usually aware, yes, but 'woo' is a new description for it.” She seems amused and takes a few steps toward the edge of the roof again. “I think maybe Bats are easily wooed.” 

I cough and say, “Some bats. Male bats. Sure.”

Without a missing a beat, Diana replies, “Perhaps it runs in the family.” 

The suggestion makes me look at her, not exactly sure how I should take the implication, but I stop short when I see the roguish smile on her face. I didn't even know she was capable of a roguish smile. It's not exactly unbecoming either. I have to wave it away.

“He's just a cousin. It barely counts,” I say, reaching for my grappling hook and turning toward the edge of the building. She knows I'm full of shit, but I don't care. “In my experience, the only thing that runs in my family is tragedy and obligation and they can all go to hell. Half of them are already there anyway.” 

“I've been there.” Diana comes beside me, placing the sole of her boot on the cement and judging the distance to the next building. “Not an experience I'd like to repeat.” 

“Oh, so you know. Tell me, did the Kane family own half of hell too?” 

Diana laughs and I feel a bit of pride bubble in my chest. I made Wonder Woman laugh. And her laugh is gorgeous. 

“I can find out if you really want to know.” Still smiling, Diana nods toward the dark night in the direction we're facing. “You're preparing to leave, but you haven't told me where we're going.” 

Right. That's just manners, Kate. Jesus. I point through the thick fog and watch as she comes to stand behind me, leaning over to follow the direction of my finger. She's so close I can feel her breath on my cheek and the little hairs stand on end. She's got to know what she's doing, right? 

“About five blocks north is a little diner that's open all night,” I tell her. “If we're going to beat Batman to Croc, we have a few logistics to work out and I think better on a full stomach.”

-

We occupy a booth at the end of the diner. I order pancakes and sausages and a pot of coffee. The waitress, Lucy, scribbles that on a notepad, completely unimpressed by Diana's presence. Lucy's eight million years old and has seen her fair share of masked people in this diner, but I still insisted on changing before we came. I swear Lucy'll outlive all of us and I don't know if I want her to have any unsavory Batwoman stories to tell once I'm dead and gone.

Across the table, Diana is looking at the menu and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. She's wearing my jacket, which is a little small in the sleeve, but thankfully long enough. The Wonder Woman attire peeks out from below the zipper ends that don't quite meet. Despite that, I look good on her. I want to burn this image in my brain. Or take a picture. Or both. 

With a smile, Diana closes the menu and hands it back, saying, “Just a cup for the coffee, thank you.” 

When Lucy walks away, I let myself rest against the back of the booth and roll my right shoulder. There's a bruise just inside the shoulder blade from a fight with a few thugs a few nights ago. I usually forget its there until I stop moving. 

“So, why are you after Croc? What'd he do?” I ask her. 

A small hum escapes Diana's lips and she threads her fingers together and rests them on the table. I can't tell if she's trying to find words or hesitating to say the ones she's already found. 

“He came to me for help,” she says. “He wanted to find a place where beasts aren't novel and creatures beyond human live freely.” 

“He asked you to take him away to one of those mythical isles of yours?” 

“In so many words.” 

I run a hand through my hair and watch as Diana scans the diner. She smiles at every patron who looks her way, even crazy Mac, Lucy's husband, who sits in the corner of the bar during her shift and talks to himself. Lucy sets a piece of pie and a fork in front of him and then picks up a tray with my food and our coffee and makes her way to us. 

“What do you mean, 'in so many words'?” I ask as Lucy sets my plate in front of me and then pours them each a cup of the coffee. “Thanks, Luce. You're the best.”

Lucy doesn't reply. She simply turns on her heels and shuffles away, intercepting Mac who'd stood from his stool and is migrating toward the exit. We both watch as she deftly redirects him to his stool and sits him down again. He does so without so much as a fuss and I think both Diana and I are little impressed by that.

“He wasn't capable of speaking then. Closer to reptile than I've ever seen him,” Diana answers, reaching out to draw her cup closer. “Something has happened to him. He is changing and I'm worried for him.” 

“Of course, you are.” I sip her coffee with a shake of her head. “Why would I expect anything less from Wonder Woman?” 

Diana lifts her cup to her lips and sets such a gaze on me over the rim. She says, “You can use my name.” 

I have to let myself smile as I pick up the small container of syrup sitting on the edge of my plate and drizzle it over the pancakes.

“I know, but it's not every day I get to eat pancakes with Wonder Woman. Let me have this, Diana,” I say, severing a piece of pancake before pointing my fork at her. “You're even wearing the outfit.” 

Diana simpers behind the cup. “I wasn't aware you liked the outfit so much, Kate. I feel as though I should be jealous.”

“Jealous? Jealous of what?” 

“If given the chance, would you rather have time with me or the outfit?”

I stare at her. It's a joke, I know. She's joking. But is she making that kind of joke? There's no way that could be taken as anything but a flirt. If she were any other woman, my response would be easy, but I take the bite from my fork and force myself to chew instead of speak. I'd better be damned sure before I walk through that door. 

It's a painfully awkward moment of silence that passes as I chew. It seems amazons aren't prone to awkward silences though and Diana sips her coffee and waits. After a moment, she gives me a patient but expectant look. Ah crap. She wants an answer. Might as well own up to it.

I straighten up to look at her and say, “If the options are mutually exclusive and I can't have one with the other, then I would say you without the outfit.”

I don't know if I would describe her expression now as just amusement. It's like amusement with a flash of competition. There is something formidable in the way Diana holds a person in her gaze like this.

She says, “That can be arranged.”

Holy shit. I cough so hard I nearly choke and all I can do is stare at her. Then she laughs and lips her coffee to her lips. A joke. Okay. Right. So she does make that kind of joke. She definitely knows what she's doing.

“So, Killer Croc-,” I start, a little too eager to change the subject.

“Waylon Jones.” 

“Waylon Jones,” I correct. “He was seen south of Gotham two nights ago, probably making good time too, wherever he's headed.” 

“Some place warm. Humid. ” 

“Right. If he's smart he'll move at night and stay out of sight, but he has to feed at some point. It's hard to miss an eight foot crocodile-man hunting.” Or man-hunting. At the moment, I'm not sure which one would be more appropriate. “Here's a question. Why do you need me? You're more than capable of handling the old Bat and the crocodile by yourself.” 

Diana casts a glance my way and after a thought she concedes and says, “I suppose it's more a matter of want than need.”

Oh. 

“You're not interested?” She looks a little disappointed. 

I don't know how long she's been waiting for a reply. I don't know how long I've been silent. I make a show of considering her a moment, then downcast my eyes, giving a shrug I hope comes off nonchalant.

“I didn't say I wasn't.” 

Diana smiles and I know why she can melt even frosty Bruce. 

-

It was my choice to accompany her or not. That's what she said anyway. That I will always have a choice with her. The truth is, when Wonder Woman asks you to do something, the only real choice is to do it. Because you want to. Well, even if you don't want to, you still want to. Funny how that works around her. We decided we were going to have to stop by a few of these sightings and mysterious animal slaughters that are popping up in internet news and she suggested we drive. 

This is how I came to be in the driver's seat of a rented Mazda with Diana of Themyscira in a pair of sunglasses in my passenger's seat. All of the cars owned by the Kane family are too conspicuous, would attract the wrong kind of attention, especially in some of the small towns and countrysides I expect us to end up. I have the windows down and the wind whips around the cabin with a howl.

“So what happens if Batman gets to Croc before we do?” I ask, shouting over the howling of the wind. 

Despite the shades, I can still see how Diana's expression stiffens. 

“I'm sure he'll haul Waylon to Arkham.”

“I have to be frank, Diana,” I tell her. “If Croc kills anyone before we find him, I'll haul him to Arkham myself, but not before breaking half of his teeth.” 

“I understand, Kate.” She rests her elbow on the passenger door, but there is not even a whisper of a smile on her face. “Let's hope we find him before that happens.” 

“How can you be sure he hasn't already?” 

“I'm not,” she says, “but I have to believe in him.” 

She watches the road as I take a curve, the wind tossing her hair about. I'm not sure what's appropriate to say to that. Who am I to question her on what or who to believe in? 

“All right, change of topic. You don't have to answer, but I have to ask.” 

“Go ahead.” 

“You and Superman. The truth. And none of that diplomatic bullshit.” 

She lets out a chuckle like she knew that question was coming. It makes me wonder how many people have asked her this. She makes me wait a full minute before she reaches over and presses the button to roll up her window, telling me to do the same. 

“There's nothing to tell,” she says. “He is a good friend, the best, perhaps, but nothing more.” 

“I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or relieved,” I say with a grin and then think. “No, that's a lie. Relieved. Definitely relieved. So, you and Bruce?” 

“Another friend, I'm afraid,” she tells me, but her voice is light, hopefully amused. “You said you were relieved. What exactly are you relieved about?” 

“I don't think I can answer that question without embarrassing myself so excuse me if I don't.” I can feel her eyes on me and wait for her to push the matter but she doesn't. We pass mile marker 23 and I know our exit is coming up in the next fifteen minutes.

“So,” I say. “No superhero power couples happening for you, huh?”

“Is that what people say about the boys and me?” She seems more perplexed than anything. “Is my friendship with them so difficult to believe?” 

“People like to believe that sex gets in the way of real friendship,” I tell her with a laugh. “Especially between attractive people.” 

She reaches over and presses the button to draw up her window. When she asks, I do the same with mine and the howl of the wind leaves a void in its stead. It takes a moment for my ears to adjust as she busies herself with the atlas. 

“If that were true, I wouldn't be capable of genuine friendships with anyone regardless of their gender,” she says, almost concerned at the concept.

“Oh, come on, Diana. You can have anyone you'd like at any moment you want them and you're telling me there's no one who catches your eye?” I ask her. “No one at all? Not even an amazon back home?” 

I see the half beat pause she does, a flicker of a thought, a quick flash of the ghost of someone's memory. I don't think there has ever been a time I related more with her than now as she remembers someone. It disappears as quickly as it came and she's back to the Diana the world knows her as. I can relate to that too. 

“Not back home, no.” 

“If I were you, I would have a gorgeous amazon waiting for me at home,” I say. “I mean, at the very least.”

She smiles. “Would you like me to introduce you to a few?” 

She says it so easily, matter of factly, but with a hint of mirth that would make me think she were joking, but she's Diana and I know she's not. And yet, because she's Diana, I also know the offer is probably harmless. This is starting to feel like navigating an ambiguous conversation with a straight woman I want in my bed. But this is Diana. Nothing I say could scare her away, so what's to lose by being honest? 

“Diana. Babe.” I pull down my sunglasses to look at her over the rim. “If any of them are half as beautiful as you, please do.”

-

Pennsylvania border 6:33 pm

The first place we stop is a small town that's reported vicious attacks on livestock. The attack is a day and a half old. Two cows missing in one night, only half of one is found by a creek behind the farm. I scrunch my nose as we walk the length of the blood trail on the grass that leads to the creek and disappears. Stale blood has a unique smell, earthy, metallic, revolting. The farmer and his wife watch us, almost like they're too scared to be suspicious, but not quite trusting either. Diana is crouching by the blood trail inspecting it and I know she sees what I see. 

I join her, sizing up the dark streak on the bent grass. “That's a whole lot of blood for just two cows.” 

“I was thinking the same.” She nods. She lets out a thoughtful hum and then says, “Did the farmer mention firing any kind of weapon at Waylon?” 

“Not a thing to the responding officer, no.”

“He's sure only two cows are missing?”

I glance over at the farmer and his wife watching us from their back porch and shrug. “He seemed pretty sure to me.” 

Her attention is drawn to the drop where the grass ends and the creek bed begins and makes her way toward it. I stroll back to wood fencing, only lightly damaged on the top wooden planks, and the blood dripped over it instead of dragged under it. 

“Who did you ladies say you were again?” The farmer asks as I touch the a finger to the blood droplets on the wood. “Officer Jordan told us to keep him updated, you see.” 

I remove my sunglasses and offer him the best smile I can muster.

“Scully. Katherine Scully,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand. I nod toward Diana. “My partner, Diana Mulder. Department of Wildlife and Fisheries. We've been tracking an aggressive pet grizzly that escaped a few days ago.” 

I'm laughing to myself. It's such a bad lie but I'm so damn proud of it.

“Officer Jordan did say they thought all the animals were acting funny,” she says, like everything in her world is right again. “That bear must have been stirring up all kinds of trouble.” 

“I would say that makes sense, ma'am.” I nod and then hook Diana around the elbow and begin urging her back toward the car. “We'll file a report with the Department. Officer Jordan has our contact.” 

When we're back in the car buckling our seat belts, Diana looks at me and says, “There was no need to lie to them.” 

“And tell them there's an eight foot anthropomorphic crocodile hunting their livestock? But it's okay because Wonder Woman and Batwoman are on the trail. They wouldn't have believed me for a second.” I toss a glance her way. “Well, maybe they would have believed you.” 

I start the engine and back the car in an arc over the front lawn and then pull back into the drive way to make our way back to town. She lets out a small huff and shakes her head, but she's not upset and that's enough for me.

“I know you said that Croc couldn't speak when you saw him,” I say when I pull into the road. “But did it seem like he wasn't capable of rational thought? You know, less human?”

She looks at me with a shake of her head, “No, not at all.” 

“I thought so.” I grimace. “He had the forethought to climb over the fence to grab the cattle and then carry them back over it. If he was devolving into more an animal than a man, he would have plowed through that fence like it was paper.” 

“I think so too.”

“If he's in his right mind, talking or not, if he kills anyone, Diana...” 

She nods and I know I don't have to finish the sentence. If Croc kills anyone, especially when he is capable of knowing right from wrong, then I will not hesitate to take him down. I don't know if she'll be on my side or his if I do. I feel her hand warm on my knee and I grimace as I think of the choices offered me. Fight Batman with Wonder Woman by my side and possibly lose his support forever or fight Wonder Woman with Batman on my side. Hell of place you've found yourself in, Kate. 

Continued...

Next: Better Than Pancakes. A kiss! A kiss? Oh, shit, a kiss.


	2. Better Than Pancakes

The problem with the middle of nowhere? The only places to stay are seedy little motels with neon lights that advertise vacancies. It doesn't bother me one bit, though I'm sure some of the family back in Gotham would be horrified about it if they were me. Diana? She's looks absolutely charmed. Course, it's probably because of the three kids from the family checking in ahead of us. Children are sharp. They knew she was Wonder Woman before their parents did.

If you've ever seen Batman around children, you'd know it's one of the strangest sights to see, but it makes sense, after a thought. They are so much of the reason he does what he does. He kneels to their level, pats their heads if no one's watching, lets them chat him up, lets them tug on his cape and run around him screaming in shrill voices. He lets them exhaust themselves before they're called away.

Diana _plays_ with them. 

She is twirling the youngest with one hand because they're in the middle of a ballet performance and catching the boy with the other because they're in the middle of the toughest fight this side of the century, all the while answering the questions of a pre-teen girl gushing about some amazing thing Diana did at some point. And all I can think is how much I want this woman in my bed. 

Shameful, maybe, but truth is truth.

After they've paid for their room, the mother tries to gather her children, completely self conscious of the fact that Diana watches her. She doesn't know Diana, though. She doesn't know her amusement doesn't come from a place of judgement, that Diana doesn't compare people to herself. It's hard to blame the mother. 

As she ushers them out of the door, Diana waves and exchanges some words with her. I see the woman's stiff shoulders loosen some and then relax when Diana places a hand on her shoulder. And there it is. The change in the woman when she sees her for who she is. She holds her youngest child to her arms and smiles, relaxes, nods her head, falls a little in love with her too. No one can actually interact with her and not. Then they're out the door, Diana is smiling to herself, and me? I'm walking to the counter and asking for two rooms. 

“All I have left is doubles,” he says. “They're twice as much as singles. You still want them?” 

I rifle through the bills in my wallet Diana places a hand on my forearm, says something to him. I don't pay attention because I'm distracted by her hand on me and the smell of her shampoo. I shrug off her concern. 

“Doesn't matter to me either way,” I tell him as I pull out cash.

“Then it's settled.” Diana pulls the bills from my hands, gives him a portion, and then returns to the rest to me. She takes the single key he offers with a smile. “Thank you very much.” 

She hooks my elbow and then leads me out the door and I'm not sure what just happened. Wait. What just happened? All I know is that there's only one key and one key means there is only one room. She opens the car door and grabs a jacket and her luggage.

“You don't have to pay for everything,” she says. “I asked you to accompany me. It's only fair I provide your accommodations.” 

“Of course, I have to pay. I always pay,” I say with a frown, rounding the other side of the car to retrieve my luggage. “I've paid for every hotel room I stayed in with a woman since I was fifteen and I'm not stopping now.” 

I'd like to say it's because the lasso is somewhere close by that I say things like this around her. I'd like to say its effect on me is noticeable and were I in my right mind, I would hold my tongue. I would be lying if I said that though and what's the point of lying to Wonder Woman? She spies me over the top of the car and I yank the door open with a huff and a mutter.

“It's not like the Kane family can't afford a couple of motel rooms anyway.” 

When I stand again and slam the door shut, I see she's still watching me with a half-smile. Then she says, “How very gallant of you.” 

I scoff, embarrassed, but follow her up the steps mumbling to myself. 

“It would be gallant if you'd let me get us separate rooms.” 

“What for?” she asks, genuinely clueless it seems. “One room has two beds. There wasn't a need to secure two.” 

“To ...safeguard ...your honor?” I ask as reach the small landing and prepare to take the next step, but stop short when I see her turn to gaze down the stairs at me, truly perplexed. Oh, hell. She's going to make me say it, isn't she? I close my eyes, breath in, and sigh. 

“Diana, you know I'm attracted to women, right?”

She gives me a look that says “and?” but much more polite than I can translate. She looks like she's lost the plot and waits for me to explain. Do they not have inappropriate gazes in Themyscira? Is that somehow excluded from the wisdom of Athena? I answer her arched eyebrow with my own and rephrase. 

“To _you_ , right?” 

The way she smiles at me now is nothing short of beguiling and she laughs as she continues toward the room. “You can relax, Kate. I'm not concerned about that at all.” 

It makes me frown. I feel indignant. I feel almost offended. I feel like making a fuss about this. Why the hell not?

“What if I am?” I call after her, reaching the second floor and moving to catch up. Bruce really was right about her. She is infuriating sometimes. 

She slips the key in the lock and pushes the door open, looks at me again, and says, “Why? Are you afraid I might do something to you?” 

That same smile. She flashes it at me again. Then she disappears inside the room without waiting for an answer and I-. I just-. I don't-. There's no way she doesn't know what she's doing.

When I walk in the room after her, she's still chuckling to herself over my plight and I sling my bag against the wall to my left so it lands on the bed as the door closes behind me. I have to address this. I can't leave it like this. It'll drive me crazy. I scrunch my nose as I think of how to phrase this. 

“Look, I have to know. Are you flirting with me? Because I really don't want to get the wrong idea here.”

Her jacket is off and hung over a chair and she looks at me, hair pulled to one side as she unclasps the thin gold chain around her neck. She looks casual, completely unaffected by the awkwardness that rattles me. 

“It's not the wrong idea,” she says, removing the chain and linking it back together.

Christ on a fucking cracker. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? Do we have the same definition of what wrong idea means? If I were smart, I would clarify, but I'm selfish so I step forward. I shouldn't. I do anyway, because I'm an asshole. She watches me cross the room, lets the necklace collapse in her palm, but says nothing. 

“I'm going to kiss you,” I tell her just as I step into her space. “Don't punch me.” 

My fingers slide in her hair at the base of her neck, and she lets me. She smells like earth spices and sandalwood with a hint of floral citrus, like forest rain after a lightning strikes. I pause. I can't. Goddammit. She says my name and it makes me step away. I turn from her and lift a hand to scratch the back of my head. What was I thinking? I can't just kiss Wonder Woman. 

“Sorry. That was embarrassing.” I let out a small huff. “S'never happened to me before.” 

She says my name again and her hand is soft on my arm, drawing me back. Her voice is as tender as her touch, fingers beneath my chin, lifting it up, toward her. She echoes my own words.

“It's all right, Kate. Let me have this.” 

Ah. Damn. She's good. Just like that, I don't have the doubts anymore to stop it. I don't know who kisses whom or who lets it happen. All I know is that, here in this moment right now, this feels like the right thing to do. She kisses like she speaks. Earnest and honest and with a few ...surprises, like her teeth scraping against my bottom lip before giving it a small nip. I'm a little taken aback. Why is she so good at this? Who the hell taught Wonder Woman how to kiss? 

I pull away and pinch the bridge of my nose. Crap. I have to spend the night in the same room as her now. Sometimes, you just don't think, Kate. I feel her come up behind me and place a hand on my shoulder. Her breath is warm near my ear and her words tangle in my hair.

“Wasn't that better than pancakes?” 

My face is burning. I'm dead. I died. She's killed me.

“Yep. Yeah. Yes. It was great. That was great. I'm great.” I finally manage to breathe and get my thoughts in order. “But let's maybe save round two for next time, huh?” 

“If that's what you'd like,” she says and I glance over my shoulder at her. She looks amused. She sounds amused. “Would you like the bathroom first?” 

One hundred percent dead.

-

We don't talk about the kiss. I know she doesn't bring it up out of consideration for me because it really threw me for a good one. I wasn't prepared for how much it would. I spend the next day obsessively tracking Croc's path via the headlines to keep my mind off it. Remnants of animal attacks, pets and livestock missing, sightings of an 8 foot crocodile on two legs. We mark every incident and sighting on the road atlas to keep track of his trail.

So, far there have been no reports of human casualties. I make it a point to tell her because I see what that hope means to her. By the time Croc reaches the Ohio border, it's easy to figure out where he's headed. 

“The Mississippi River,” she says, considering the atlas. “And probably heading further south.” 

“Guess that only makes sense.” I nod, studying the length of it. “We can intercept him just before the Mississippi feeds into the Gulf of Mexico.”

“No doubt, Bruce has thought of that as well,” she says, folding the atlas and placing it away. I must have made a face because I feel her gaze on me and then she asks, “How are things with him?” 

“Abysmal. I assume you've heard or he told you himself.” 

“J'onn told me.” She laces her fingers together and rests them on the table top. “Most likely, Bruce will never talk to me about it.” 

I let out a small hum. “Because of Maxwell Lord?” 

She nods quietly and I know she sees the parallels. Like the rest of the world, I watched the live broadcast when Wonder Woman placed her hands on Maxwell's face and calmly but swiftly, snapped his neck. Diana was judged by the entire world and both Batman and Superman abandoned her. No one was watching when I aligned my shot and put a bullet in Basil's temple. I wonder what she thinks of it all. I want to believe that she, slayer of monsters, understands. But there is a small doubt in me. 

“Few things hurt Bruce more than this does,” Diana says. “It's not something he can easily understand.” 

“No, it's not.” I cup both my hands around the mug and feel its warmth on my palms. “It's not a decision he can make without falling apart. That's why I make it for him instead.” 

“But that's not what really bothers you, is it?” she asks me. I can see in her eyes that she knows. I can see that she's seen through me. 

“I would make the same decision again a hundred times.” I sip my coffee. “But it's Cassandra, Diana. I hurt Cassandra, probably in more ways than just the obvious. No one seems to be able to tell me how she is, if she's even all right.”

She leans forward and places her hand on mine, makes sure she has my attention, and then says, “What about you, Kate? Are _you_ all right?”

Her voice is soft and her expression is tender. It surprises me. I had expected her to ask if I regret it, if I would do things differently, because that's what everyone asks. I receive her concern instead. Concern for me in a time no one else has afforded me it. But isn't that why we call her a wonder? Isn't that why we love her? 

“I don't know,” I say, because it's the truth. I really don't. I flip my hand palm up and allow myself the indulgence to hold her hand. “You know, afterward I felt I had to tiptoe around Bruce, stay on his good side, or risk losing him and the bat forever.” 

“And now?” 

“Now, I think I'm just angry. At everything. At him, at Tim, at Superman and all the others who always tell me there's another way.” My laugh comes off contemptuous, more so than I intended. “People like me exist so people like them can still believe that's true.” 

Then she squeezes my hand and leans forward even more, catching my gaze with hers.

“No, Kate,” she says. “You exist for you, because you matter. Because you should matter.” 

It's like a bullet to the deepest part of me, where I shove all my terrible things from view. It lodges itself in the middle of all that darkness and dares to turn on a light. At first, it hurts because I hadn't known how much I wanted to hear someone, anyone, say that. And then it just hurts, the kind of hurt that leaves a solace in its wake. 

This is why we call her a wonder. It's because she loves us anyway despite it all.

-

I want to drive through the night, but somewhere in northern Mississippi, Diana convinces me to take an exit and find a hotel. This time, I make sure to have separate rooms and feel justified when I see him place two card keys in two envelopes and then hand them to me. As we make our way on the elevator for the ride up, I hand her one with a smile she must have noticed. 

She takes the envelope. “I hope you're satisfied now.” 

“Oh, I am. I really am.” 

I'm still smiling. I'm ecstatic. There will be a wall separating us tonight and maybe I can calm the fuck down. She returns my smile and thanks me for the room. Our rooms are adjacent to each other, which is convenient, I suppose. I reach my door first and slide the card key in. Diana steps beside me before going to hers.

She bids me good night and a hand comes up beneath my chin and holds me still with gentle fingers. She kisses my cheek. 

“I hope you sleep well.” 

I freeze. All I'm able to do is nod. It was such a small touch, casual in Diana terms, but it was warm and grounding. The light on my door flashes green and I grab the door handle a bit too forcefully. As she steps around me, her fingertips trail the length of my jaw before they are gone.

“You too, Diana.” 

I push the door open and step in. When the door clicks shut behind me, I'm alone with my face all red. The truth is, at the beginning of this trip, taking Diana to bed was a fun fantasy. I knew though that it, like all fantasies, was never going to happen so musing about it was just harmless fun. But that was then. I feel the change in me now. I feel the difference. I want her. Diana. Wonder Woman. And this want is anything but harmless.

That's when I hear the knock. Not on the door at my back, but somewhere else in the room. It takes me a second to see the second door on the wall beside the tv stand. Oh. It's one of those places. I let my bag drop on the floor by the foot of the bed, approach the door, cursing beneath my breath. Despite the small dread within me, I open the door. Diana stands on the other side looking delighted at the doorway that connects our rooms. 

“Convenient,” she says, admiring the opening. 

“Is this your first time staying in a place with one of these doors?” I ask, stepping back and crossing my arms to size her up. 

“No,” she replies easily, “but it is the first time I know who is in the room on the other side. I like the novelty of it.” 

I can't handle her. She moves from one state of being to another so quickly and without worrying about how others perceive her. I've seen Diana look inspiring speaking in front of thousands of people, look badass laying a beat down on greek monster rejects, and look cool and suave when she sets her sights on you and flirts back. And now she's adorable? This is not fair. All the want I felt comes flooding back to me. 

Against my better judgement, I cock my head and try to lean casually on the door I still hold and say, “Do you want to leave it open then?”

She smiles. “You wouldn't mind?” 

“Not at all.” It's a lie. Or it's wish fulfillment. I can't tell right now. I brush it off and prop my side open with a chair and then flash her a grin. I've been called a lot of things, but prudish was never one of them. 

“Then, yes. I would like that.” 

It's a simple exchange, nothing to write home about, and we both turn to do our own things. I sit on the bed with my laptop. I want to do a last minute check of sightings and rumors to see any changes in the morning. He averages a good amount of distance at night and I want to approximate when he'll be at the delta. In my peripheral vision, I see movement across the door a few times. At first, it's easy to ignore. It's not until after I hear her shower turn off that the movement across the door makes my eyes glance her way. 

She passes by in a white robe and my eyes track to her. Through the doorway, I watch as she stands by the bed, pulling back her hair while she holds a hair tie between her teeth. Have you ever watched a woman put her hair up like that? Hands buried in mussed locks, defiant strands escaping her hands and falling delicately to the neck she is unintentionally showcasing. The hair tie between her teeth parting her lips just perfectly. No? Maybe it's just me. 

Whose terrible idea was it to keep the door open anyway? Mine, of course. This is what I get for trying to charm an amazon.

I have to force myself to refocus and bring my attention back to the screen and finally notice the picture in the online article. It's a batarang wedged in a bald cypress tree in southern Louisiana not too far from the coast. The local forums are buzzing with speculation that the Batman might be in the area. What's he doing here? Did he and Swamp Thing get in a fight? Who would win? Do you think Superman's with him? 

“Hey, Diana. You might want to see this.” 

She looks at me curiously and crosses the threshold between rooms. The bed rocks slightly when she sits on the edge of it beside me, leaning over to look at the screen. I angle the screen back and watch as she studies the picture and scans the article. She's thinking the same thing I am. I can tell by the way her eyebrow knits.

“How very like him,” she says.

“This is a warning, Diana,” I tell her. “He's saying there will be consequences if we get in his way.” 

“Fortunately, I have never been afraid of standing in Batman's way.” She straightens up, but her expression softens when she looks at me. “I understand if you would like to turn back to Gotham, however.”

The comment makes me blink, it's such a ridiculous suggestion.

“I'm not leaving you.” I make sure to accent each word. “You asked me a favor and I agreed knowing full well it would come to this.”

“It was inconsiderate of me to even ask,” she says, pushing herself from the bed. “I know how important the sigil is to you.” 

I have to nod slowly. “You're not wrong. I tell people that it was the sigil that saved me, that gave me purpose, my chance to serve. Before, the loss of it would have been a harsh blow.” 

She half turns and looks at me over her shoulder, before tuning, and leaning on the desk beside the bed. She says nothing though and simply waits for me to continue. So I get to my feet and cover the distance between us.

“But I'm not that person anymore. I don't need Batman to give me purpose anymore.” 

Diana lifts her face to look at me. We're nearly the same height now with her sitting on the edge of the desk. She reaches over and gives my upper arm a warm squeeze.

“You never did, Kate.” 

Huh. So this is what it feels like to have someone believe in you. It's like a little bubble of warmth in the center of my chest, effervescent and light. I look at the hand on my shoulder, reach up to gently to take it in my own. Her fingers wrap around mine and she holds on. I don't pull away. 

“It was my decision to be here with you,” I tell her. “Whatever happens as a result of that decision will be my burden, not yours. Let me take responsibility for it.” 

I can't read her expression. It's somewhere between slight surprise and something else. It's almost like she considers me, or my words, carefully. Her eyes track to mine and I refuse to look away, even though it feels almost like being evaluated. I'm all too wary of the way our hands still hold on as she looks at them fondly. She lets her hand play with mine, interlocking fingers then slipping away, turning knuckles to palm, and back again. Then her lips curve in a small smile.

“That is an amazon precept,” she says, finally letting me go. “The idea that decisions such as this carry a responsibility and should not be made in haste. The outcome, whether good or bad, is ours to bear.” 

With a grin, my free hand finds a way to my hip and I cock my head and say, “So, you're saying I'm not so different from an amazon, right? You're not going to start calling me 'sister', are you?” 

When I release her hand, she lifts it to push strands of hair behind her ear and she looks at me curiously. “You wouldn't like that?” 

“No.” I shake my head, still grinning. “I don't normally go around kissing people I call sister.”

Now she folds her arms loosely across her chest and muses. “I suppose that means I do.” 

I can't help it. That makes me laugh. And I thought I made it awkward. “You do know you made that even worse, don't you?”

When she laughs, it makes me swell with pride. I want to make her laugh like this every day I have with her. 

“I do nothing by half measures,” she says, mysteriously.

“Oh, is that right? You know, I really want to challenge you on that, but I think I'll spare you this time.” 

“If you insist. Next time, however,” she says as she takes my hand and draws me closer, “don't.” 

I think my heart stopped. She tilts her head and gazes up at me, a glint of something almost mischievous in her eye. Diana being mischievous. Imagine that. Then she lowers her head and kisses the palm of my hand and the atmosphere immediately changes. Shivers threaten to run down my spine. Her lips graze against the soft underside of my wrist, but then she stops short, as if reassessing the action, like that little kiss might be one step too far. Instead, she gives my hand a squeeze and lets it go. 

She says, “We should get some rest.” 

For once, I feel like she's the one running away right now. It's in the way her eyes fall away to her hands as she leans back, putting just a little bit of distance between us. It's a clear sign that its time I stepped away and let her up. We bid our goodbyes again. When she reaches the open doorway that connects our rooms, I call her name and she pauses to look back at me. She looks pensive, almost troubled, but also curious. 

“Whatever happens when we get to the Gulf, Diana,” I tell her. “I want you to know that I enjoyed this time with you.”

She smiles. “Likewise, Kate.” 

Continued...

Next: Wonder. The inevitable meet up with Croc and the Bat and Diana woos ...again.


	3. Wonder

I suggested this cockamamy plan before I realized that the delta is something like three bazillion acres huge and covers two states. Past Jackson, there is a long stretch of a whole lot of nothing. No hills, no elevation, no buildings. Nothing. I don't think I've ever been so bored driving. Beside me, Diana is searching for potential sightings on her phone. 

“Where was the last place you thought Waylon passed through?” she asks and it takes me a minute to remember. These names down here. 

“A little town in Louisiana. Homah. Something like that.” 

“Houma?”

“That sounds right.” 

“It doesn't appear that he's gone too far. There was another alleged animal attack thirty minutes ago on the edge of a swamp around there, relatively close to the last sighting.” I see her thumb swiping on the touch screen as she looks up directions. 

“Think he's going to double back? The batarang was sighted just south of there.” 

She sets her phone down and looks out at the open road in front of her. From her profile, I can see her eyebrows are furrowed and she's in thought. 

“No, I think he's waiting for me.” 

I know better than to ask how she knows. It'll probably be some intuition of hers, some amazonian magic, a gift of the gods maybe. Whatever it is that causes her to make a face like that is something I probably shouldn't ask about. So I don't. Sometimes, I know how not to be an asshole. 

-

Everything here is hard to find. Some of the towns are so small, that I blink and we've passed through it already. Imagine trying to prowl the rooftops in a place like this. On one side of the highway, I can see wetlands stretching out until it gives way to the coast and open water. 

We stop by a small Chevron station that almost looks abandoned to gas up and I watch her stroll inside the shadiest looking convenience store I have ever seen. If we were still in Gotham, I wouldn't be surprised to hear gunshots ring in the air.

When she returns, she carries two drinks and leaves a trail of curious onlookers behind. Diana hands me one of the bottled teas and climbs in the passenger seat. She says we're actually making our way to Atchafalaya swamp. 

“Uh-cha-fu-what?” I ask, climbing in the drivers side.

“Atchafalaya.” 

“Oh. Getcha falafel.” I nod. The engine hums to life. “I don't know if I can find any for you down here in cajun country. I'll have to take you on a falafel date when we get back to Gotham.”

The slightly surprised look she gives me only feeds my arrogance. What? So I want to tease Wonder Woman a little. So my joke is awful. Sue me. Anything to get those eyes on me. She looks away and busies herself with her phone, pushing dark strands of hair behind her ear. 

“Spell it correctly and maybe I'll let you, Kate Kane.” 

She says it so casually but it still makes a flash of heat reach my cheeks. I try to spell it. Turns out it doesn't sound the way it's spelled. She laughs as I pull back on the road and pats my shoulder sympathetically.

“It was a valiant effort.” 

I really like her. 

The road takes us further from the comfort of the highway onto what feels like twisted back road surrounded by marsh. The further in we get, the more she focuses. We stop at a little restaurant we chance upon that boasts the best crawfish in the South and, because Diana can charm the rattle off a rattlesnake, get directions to a little bed and breakfast somewhere near by.

It's almost dusk by the time we find the B and B off the beaten road advertising swamp tours and luxury nights at haunted plantations. It's nothing more than an old house whose electrical wiring hasn't been updated for the last century at least. And because my luck never fails, we snag a room with a single double bed. My heart cusses me out.

“I think he's close by,” she tells me, stepping over to the french doors and opening them to the small veranda. 

I follow her out in the sticky humid night, not sure when the last time this veranda passed any safety checks. The wrought iron fencing is rusting and coming lose from the floor boards, but she leans on it with more trust than I'm willing to give it. Outside, we can see the small dirt road we traveled up, lined with large trees choked with Spanish moss. And beyond the tree line is a marsh that connects to the larger swamp. 

It's supposed to be one of the largest swamps in the United States, supposed to span an area so wide, it's difficult to traverse. It would be a good place for Croc to set up shop.

“We're going to have to go into that, aren't we?” I ask her, nodding toward the dark water.

“Most likely.” She nods and her jaw tenses slightly. “Sooner rather than later. I feel we're running out of time. 

“Then we better get going.” 

I'm already back inside unzipping my bag, pulling out Batwoman's skin when she reenters, closing the French doors. It is nothing but high-strung awkwardness changing in the same room as Wonder Woman. I haven't felt this uneasy about it since I was a kid. Finally, Batwoman and Wonder Woman leap from the veranda ...and land knee high in thick viscous wetlands. It is as awful as it sounds. 

“You're lucky you're pretty, Diana,” I say as we trudge our way through slowly. “I wouldn't do this for just any face.” 

“Somehow, I doubt it's my face you're doing this for, Kate,” she says with a hint of amusement,“but thank you just the same.” 

I will never not enjoy this. Why has no one told me she gives a tease as well as she takes one? Why hadn't anyone let me know how funny she is? Had I known, I would have been sweet talking her a long time ago. 

-

I don't know how long it's been or how far we've gone. The sun has long since set and the only light we have is my angle head and her golden lariat. It's hot, the water is thick, and I swear mosquitos have somehow found their way inside my suit. This time, I'm counting on my bad luck as a person and as a Bat to pull through. I'm counting on Croc to find us first. He's sure taking his sweet time. Then, suddenly, it's quiet. The sounds of life cease all round and everything is eerily still. 

“Something's wrong,.” I say, flipping on my night vision as we stand back to back. 

There's a distant crash that rattles the swamp and I hear critters scurry. There's the unmistakable sound of water splashing in front of us. Something in the water is headed right for us. Three guesses who it is. Diana and I manage to get out of the way to some low hanging branches. Croc breaks the surface violently, one arm tied tight behind his back with a grapple line. 

“Waylon Jones!” Diana shouts his name but the line tying his arm pulls tight and he staggers. 

I know who tied that around him and I know who's on the other side of that taut line. He's using the reel of the grapple to close the distance fast. I pull the combat knife from my boot.

“See if you can reach him. I've got the line.” 

She drops to the water below and I leap from the branch for Croc's back. Diana wasn't kidding. He doesn't seem to acknowledge her, doesn't even seem to register her voice. He's almost twice as big as the last time I saw him, big enough for me to land on his back and plant my boots square against his shoulder, anchor my free hand in the line and set the blade against it. Croc thrashes around, trying to throw me off, but I hold on. Diana catches his free arm with her lasso and holds him down, still trying to reach him with her words .

It feels like hours, holding on tight and trying to saw, but I know it only takes minutes. Only minutes until the line is thin enough it snaps. Only minutes until he's on us. I have to stall him.

“I'll try to buy you some time,” I shout reaching for my grapple. 

“Batwoman, wait!” 

I hear her faintly, but I've fired already and I'm gone in the next moment, trying to put as much distance between us as I can. The glow of her lasso lessens in the night until I can no longer see. I can't take Batman head on in a fist fight and hope to win. I know that much, but I also know that I can hurt him. All I have to do is make his task hard enough so she can work her magic. 

At the moment my feet touch the branch, a savage kick knocks me backwards into the water. For a minute, I'm disoriented. The speed and angle of that kick, that's not something he does. When I break the surface, it's Cassandra standing on the branch staring down at me. She looks like she's seen roaches she's liked more than me. I'm not going to lie. It hurts a little.

“Cassandra.” 

She points at me. “In way. Leave.” 

There's an unmistakable sound in the air and Batman lands beside her, his cape draping over him as he stands, peering down. His mouth forms a grim line. 

“I told you not to interfere, Batwoman,” he says, almost through his teeth. 

“Yeah, well. I was never good at listening.” I stand on my feet and spit to the side. “Should've known you'd bring her. Anything to get the advantage, huh?” 

The water comes up to the middle of my thigh. Not exactly ideal circumstances. The kick Cassandra gave me was a good one. Probably bruised a rib there. I sling excess water from my gloves. 

“Leave,” he says. “Now.”

“Can't do that, Batman,” I tell him. “I promised Diana.” 

“She should never have asked you for help,” he says. “I told you when you first started, Kate. I told you the rules to follow if you wear the bat.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “You did.” 

“And you broke the worst one.”

I nod again. “Yeah. I did.” 

He grumbles something I can't hear and I know he's done talking. He's reaching into his cape and I know he's pulling out his grappling gun. I know he's going to push forward after Croc to Diana and leave Cassandra to take care of me. I know she's a helluva better combat fighter than I am. When they both disappear from the branch, I know this is going to hurt. 

The first punch comes from the right and I sense it fast enough to block with my forearms. It's just a guess where the next blow will come. Either a fist or a foot. Either from above or below. She moves like lightning and all her opponents have time to do is guess and hope for the best. I guess high. I guess wrong. Her knee comes up, sloshing water upward with it, blocking my view, and slams hard in my gut. I barely have time to rush the air from my lungs before contact to keep from being winded. 

“Cassandra, wait.” 

She's disappeared again and everything is quiet. If I didn't feel the droplet of water on my shoulder, I might not have dodged in time. She comes down hard and the water erupts with her fury. She's on me again, but the splashes clue me in and the drag of it on her clothes slows her down some. It's enough. It helps me block her moves as I try to reach her. 

“Wait. I need to--” I lean back in time for her leg to swing over my head. “--say something.” 

Too fast. Too angry. It makes her movements a little rougher around the edges than normal, messes with her precision. Another kick to my head and I drop beneath it, tackling her mid section like a quarter back, and whipping out my own grappling gun. Taking aim at a large cypress tree behind her, I take a page from the Bat, manage to wrap the line around her, and fire. The sudden jerk of the line takes her off guard. She's pulled off her feet as we're both yanked through the water toward the tree. 

The only advantage I have on her is that I'm taller and heavier. She's not used to the momentum and it takes her longer to adjust. But the tree is coming up and I have to work fast. She pushes me off her, which is just as well. I was about to do that myself. I miss the tree. She doesn't. The hit knocks her hard enough, she's winded, and the line around her pulls tight with my weight, just long enough for me come around the tree and pin her against it. 

I've pissed her off. She struggles hard against the line as I secure it. It will hold her long enough. 

“Cassandra,” I say, still holding my grapple and lifting my hands up. I wade in front of her. She's so angry and all of it is directed toward me. “You have every right to be angry with me. I shot him. I'm not going to excuse it.” 

The way her eyes flash at me makes me understand that she already knows that. “No kill. Symbol means no kill.” 

“I know. I'm sorry,” I say, pulling off my cowl so we can look at each other as ourselves. “I know to you and everyone else, the choice I made was to kill or not. I know that's how everyone sees it.” 

She's still struggling against the line and I see it loosen just a bit. I don't have time to struggle with words anymore. I don't know if I can really explain it to her, but I try anyway.

“But to me, the choice was either you or him and I chose you,” I tell her, trying to gauge her reaction for any understanding. I don't think I see any. I pull on my cowl. “So, it's okay if you hate me. At least you're still here to do it.” 

It's all I can get myself to say. So I turn from her, fire off a line, and let it pull me away.  
-

By the time I find Diana again, she and Batman have come to a stand still. There is a bit of blood on his split bottom lip and swamp mud smeared on her forearm from a dirtied boot. There is no sign of Croc. I know she's held Batman off while he escaped. I know he's not happy about that either. They both know its me when I'm within ear shot but neither acknowledge. The expression on her face is solemn, but unyielding. She holds the lariat in her hands, the glow of it illuminates her in amber light, reflecting off the surface of the murky water. I only catch the tail end of their terse exchange. 

“It has nothing to do with you. This is between me and Kate. No matter how difficult it gets or how angry we are, we never take a life,” he says, as if she should know better than anyone else. It's almost accusatory the way he says it, directing it all toward her, and I am just an afterthought. “That's not what we do, Diana. That's not who we are.” 

“No, Bruce, it's not who you are,” she says, “but she is not you and she was never a child you forged from the ground up.” 

“A mistake I won't make again.” 

I can see the weariness in her shoulders when she takes in a breath. I can see how the rift between them hurts her, how she hates it, but she still doesn't relent. 

“You will regret abandoning her, Bruce.” 

He throws his cape up in a huff and fires off his grapple, turning to look at her over his shoulder, and says, “If Killer Croc surfaces again, I won't let you stop me.” 

“I know.” She nods and he is gone before my next breath. When the waters settle she finds me in the shadow. A small scrape on her shoulder bleeds a little where one of Croc's claws caught her skin. 

“Are you all right?” I ask her as I wade into view. 

“You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine.” She's quiet, pensive, her expression telling me that she's a million miles away. 

I wade closer to her until I'm standing in the halo of light that surrounds her and dare to reach over and touch her shoulder. She looks at me, eyes focusing once more, and offers me a smile I can only describe as sorrowful.

“Let's go, Kate. It's over.” 

Diana takes hold of my hand and leads me through the dark. 

-  
It's late when we get back to the room. If there are other guests, they've long since gone to bed. I let her take a shower first and she give me an appreciative look and thanks me. When she's finished, we pass by each other through the door without a word, but I feel her give my shoulder an affectionate squeeze. I don't think a shower has ever felt so good in my whole life. I find her back on the veranda when I return and join her, still toweling my hair.

“What happened to Croc?” I ask her, quietly. 

“He escaped. Moved further in the swamp where we couldn't follow,” she says, watching the hunter moon making its slow trek across the sky. Then she lowers her gaze to me. “I owe you an apology, Kate. It was selfish of me to ask you to come.” 

No, this is wrong. It's all wrong. The regret in her eyes as she looks at me, the somber timbre of her voice as she says that. All of it is wrong. I have to fix this. I have to make this better.

“Selfish?” I let out a small laugh, cocking my head to the side. “Didn't know you were capable of being selfish. Aren't you supposed to be above petty emotions like that?” 

Diana considers me curiously for a minute, but she has lets herself give a hushed chuckle. She spins and brushes passed me, entering the room. 

“I have my moments,” she says as she takes a seat on the end of the bed. “I can be just as selfish as anyone else.” 

“Right. Uh huh.” I nod, closing the french doors. I cross my arms melodramatically. “What could the pride of the amazons possibly be selfish about?”

She doesn't even hesitate. She doesn't even blink. 

“To start with, I invited you, knowing fully what it could mean for you,” she says, watching me carefully, “because I wanted to be in your company.” 

It's not the first time she's said something of the sort. It's just as flattering this time as it is any other time, but if she's going to be that honest about it, I might as well be as honest with my questions.

“Okay, but why?” I ask stepping closer to underscore my request. “Why me? Why my company? I can think of a dozen other people who would make more sense.” 

She looks a little surprised, as if the answer is so obvious. She sits up straighter and tilts her head to fix her eyes on me. All I feel from her is a tender warmth, a growing fondness ...for me. It's all I can do to breathe through it.

“Because I see you, Kate, even when you don't want to be seen.” She smiles. Right now, Diana smiles for me. “I've seen your courage in battle and your compassion for Cassandra. I've seen your humor and your hurt and your love.”

“Especially my humor.” I chip in because I need to breathe between her words. I need the air to be less dense. 

“Yes, especially that.” She lets out the quietest laugh, and nods, but the joke doesn't lessen the weight of her words. “You're very good at asking why you, but have you never stopped to ask why not you? Is it so difficult to believe that you might be attractive?” 

“To anyone else, no,” I tell her and it's a little too honest for me comfort. “To you? Yes. It is.”

“Why not to me?” 

I'm stuck once more, pinned in place by her words. I don't have an answer either of us will like. I want her to just know why, that it's because it's her, because she's Diana, without having to admit anything else. I am lot of things. I'm a soldier. I'm a fighter. I'm a Bat. But I'm not good. Not the kind of good that belongs with her. 

“We're mismatched,” I say. It's not exactly accurate, but it's as close as I get myself to say. “We're not compatible. We don't make sense like that.”

“And yet, here we are.” She reaches over and takes my hand, coaxing me closer until I'm sandwiched between her legs and my knees touch the end of the bed. So close I could run my fingers through her hair. Too close. Quietly, she says, “And you are still attractive to me.” 

How does she do that? Make you feel like maybe it's okay to just be. Maybe it's okay to just want. Maybe it's okay it's just me. She guides my hand to her cheek and I can feel her warm skin against my palm. I almost don't hear her say it. She asks if she can kiss me. She asks if I will let her. I let her.

I don't think I have ever felt so essential to someone else than I do in this moment, holding her face in my uncertain hands, as her lips tell mine soft compliments and flatteries. Her hands slide along my waist and pull me so close, I have to raise a knee to the mattress beside her. She makes me feel loved. She makes me feel needed. All with just the tip of her tongue and the touch of her lips. She was right. She does nothing half-heartedly. 

My hands cup her cheeks, fingers resting on the underside of her jaw, and I have to study her for a minute, remembering the shape of her eyebrow, the line of her greek nose, and then carnal guilt makes me lower my forehead to hers. I have to be brave. I have to tell her. I close my eyes so I don't have to see her expression.

“I want you, Diana.” 

She runs her hands down the length of my arms until she covers my hands with hers and it's only then that I realize they were trembling. Then her voice comes soft and yielding.

“Then you can have me Kate.”

I think I shudder. I think I'm crying. I pull her into another kiss and we tumble backwards onto the bed. 

This is why we call her a wonder.

 

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to confess. KatexRenee will always be my otp with Kate, but I was curious how KatexDiana could/would/can/might be and this story happened.


End file.
